Ecstasy Broken
by Timothy27
Summary: As Espada of Intoxication, Zommari had always been a little cracked. When a blank wall drives him to reconsider life, he survives the Winter War. But just when he thought he could sit back and relax, a certain crazed Soul Reaper tracks him down for revenge, and he must learn to survive in the human world with his trusty sidekick (?) until things die down. Maybe. T for violence.
1. Prologue

She stood before him, a small figure in black robes, her hand clenched around the hilt of her sword so her knuckles flashed white, her face a pale mask. "I'll ask one more time," she said, her monotone disguising what truly must be fear. "Are you the one who killed my brother?" The last few words cracked in her mouth as they spilled out slowly. Hmm, must be painful to think about. To state it out loud- it makes it so much more _real_, no matter how long it's been.

"My. Are you trembling?" His voice was casual, the voice of someone simply starting a friendly conversation. He didn't answer the question.

Her grip tightened on the sword, and the blade slid out an inch. "Does it matter?" was her cool response. And yet, her wrists betrayed her as they quivered ever so slightly. a step back, imperceptibly. Almost.

He looked down into her partially-lidded violet eyes, just another tactic to hide her terror. It _was_ terror, wasn't it? "Not much," he replied to her attempt at defiance. "If you don't think about it. But I did. I thought about very much, so that makes it important. But moving on- Are you afraid? Or is that apprehension? Anger, perhaps? Yes, anger might do it." He moved forward, just enough so she could realize she was losing ground. "But tell me you are not afraid just a little?"

"I-" she swallowed a little. Just a little. "I am. But it doesn't matter. No matter how afraid I am, I must finish this." She straightened her back, adjusted her stance. Confidence. "Do you know how many people helped me to get here? How many of them did not live?" Passion now. Those people must have been important. Oh well, no matter. She couldn't do anything to change the past, no matter how much she regretted it. "And it was my fault! I _owe_ them this! If I don't make it back, then fine! But I must end you, for them, even if I end myself as well, This time, it is of my own free will, not like when one of your own tried to make me give in to my guilt. I carry it willingly. And you shall feel my pain, or at least some measure of it, soon."

Hmm. What a moving speech. "Are you trying to inspire yourself? Because it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself of something. However, rest assured I am not here to listen to you. If you are not going to draw your sword, then go. Accept your guilt, live another day. I want to live the life I have made for myself- in peace." His eyes narrowed. "And I do not need another Shinigami to come ruin it for me. Clean up your own mess. Do not blame this on me."

She wavered, he could tell. Oh, how she wanted to give in. Go back to her remaining friends who would smile, nod, and embrace her. Tell her they understood. That she did the right thing. How they wouldn't have been able to _bear_ it if they lost another. Ah, but she confirms her resolve once again. Too many gone, perhaps? Or does she just want an _excuse_ to get out of it all? Well, he wouldn't be her excuse. She would never exact revenge. But still… That arrogance. To come up to him, saying she was there for her friends, For her brother. That _selfishness_.Pinning those deaths on him, as if _he_ were the root cause of it all. As if _he_ killed her friends.

"You're guilty? Understandable. It is all your fault, after all. If you hadn't asked for their help, they would still be here, wouldn't they? If you'd accepted the loss of your brother as you accepted all the other casualties of the war, it wouldn't have come to this. But here we are." She would pay. She had to, of course. "Draw your sword."

"I- I had to do it." Now the quiver was evident in her voice.

"No, you did not have to do anything. It was your choice to come this far, with any means necessary. Did anyone force you? I do not believe so. Correct me if I am wrong. Draw your sword."

She blinked, wide-eyed. Looking a little dazed, she drew her sword before realizing she was obeying him. Holding it in a two-handed grip, she glared at him, hatred finally evident.

He drew his own zanpakuto.

Steel rang through the sand, the echoes fading into the cold air before they could reverberate. Two figures fighting in the desert. From nowhere to nowhere, for the last time.

How pathetic.


	2. It's Not Easy Being Seven

**Hah, my first fic, and I forgot my Author's Note on the prologue. Pfft. Anyways, this is inspired by a conversation with Aceidia, who mentioned how little of a personality Zommari had in the canon. Then this spawned when I was thinking about his conflicting character aspects, and what would have happened if he'd been a little more... intoxicated. I'll leave it at that. Obviously, Tite Kubo died and left me Bleach in his will, so I do in fact own it.**

**Not. **

**And he's not dead either, fortunately! That'd make me sad.**

* * *

Seven was an odd place to be, no pun intended. Technically, four on up was considered powerful, but every lumped Nnoitra in with the top, splitting them in half, essentially. Grimmjow was the backup Quinta. Number six- poor Grimmjow.

So seven wasn't strong. But with the likes of Yammy and Aaroniero below him, he couldn't really be classified as weak. Right? And of course there was mad, mad Szayelaporro. An interesting set of powers, but let's be real here. Definitely not a fighter. Weak, for an Espada. Let him lord over the test-tube Fraccion and one-man drama classes. (That one man being Szayelaporro himself, of course.) So where did that leave seven? There was definitely a wide gap between his powers and those of the Sexta's. Did that make him weak? _Probably_, he conceded, _but nobody's perfect. _Close as he came. Not.

Zommari frowned at the blank wall across from where he sat cross-legged, its emptiness distracting him from his musings. "That will not do. This wall exists for my personal use, and so I shall express myself a little. With… uh...Dangit, Aizen-sama….. This dreary place is sapping my creativity." He sighed deeply."And now I probably sound like Szayelaporro." Well, it wasn't his fault he couldn't focus. He would just have to decorate the wall, and then he could continue his meditation.

Glancing around his room, his gaze fell on a set of paints, complete with a rather dried and frazzled-looking paintbrush. He picked up the brush and looked at it for a moment. "  
It looks like it's been electrocuted or something." Shrugging, he dipped it into the cold mug of tea he had smuggled out of the last meeting when he didn't feel like drinking it, and wet the paints. Seriously, they were like turtles! Really dry turtles, that was. Wait, that barely made any sense. Well it did… but it didn't. Gosh, he really needed to sit down and meditate for a bit before he got lost in his own ramblings. Back to the wall.

He looked at it with a critical eye, judging distance and proportions, visualizing the dimensions. When he was done, it would be a masterpiece. A glorious work of art, one that put to shame the great painter of the human Renaissances! Yes, it would be spectacular! He could already see the beautiful colors and depictions, already feel the depth of emotion it would evoke. He would be accomplished, a professional, an artist! It would be amazing, superb, sublime! It would be-

He reached out with the brush, marked two short lines, and a quick curve below them.

It would be a smiley face.

Satisfied that the wall was no longer blanker than Ulquiorra-sama's face (because at least the face had stripes and stuff), he settled back on his bamboo mat, crossed his legs and closed his eyes. Already he could feel his jumbled, slurry mind settle into a place of peace. A sense of calm settled over him as he rested in his cool, organized mental sanctuary. Breathe in. Out. And in again. Okay, keep breathing. Don't think about anything else right now. This is my time…. No one can take it away from-

His eyes snapped open as he sensed another presence outside his door. Making no move, he allowed the Número to enter. The Arrancar knelt to bow and Zommari waited rather impatiently- _calm down, calm down… take the time I need...it's mine… mine…. Don't let him bother me…. I can…_ He didn't realize his eyes were closing until the Número began speaking.

"Zommari-sama?" he asked cautiously.

The Septima arranged his features into an expression of politeness, like he was listening gravely. "Speak." He nodded to the other. Wow, he really liked giving one-word commands. Aizen didn't know what he was missing, the way he rambled on. _Aizen-sama. Sorry. Wait, it's not like he can hear me anyways. Hmm, I wonder if I actually care? Or am I just correcting myself out of habit?_ He shrugged mentally, then nodded seriously as the Número finished delivering his message. "Mm," he said, trying to appear as if he had been listening. Of course, he already knew what it was, so why bother listening?

"Another meeting," he sighed, though it sounded more like an affirmation of the fact coming of his mouth. Turning to the other Arrancar, he decided to get another opinion. "Do you like my wall?"

"Um," the Número swallowed. Clearly, he was nervous in the presence of greatness. Or something. "What about the wall?" Okay, so maybe he was just obtuse.

"Do you like what I did with it?" he inquired further.

"..." Perhaps he was searching for words with which to describe the sheer beauty of it. "I don't see a difference, honestly, Zommari-sama."

The audacity! How could he not notice? And he was clearly not one of the brighter few, saying such a thing to Zommari's face. Well, sometimes people need chances.

"The smiley face," he explained, pointing. "See? I thought the wall was too plain, and I couldn't focus, so I wanted to decorate it. And then the paints were like really dry turtles, so I couldn't paint it as big as I'd originally wanted. But I think it gives it a nice touch. Some brightness to an otherwise depressing wall." He turned expectantly to the Número, who was standing there with his mouth hanging open partially. Hmm,now why was that?

Oh, right, because he always acted all calm and collected around the other Arrancars.

Well, he could talk how he wanted when he wanted, dangit! He was an Espada, after all! He could do whatever he liked. And the wall was supposed to help him express himself, and he seemed to be doing a pretty good job of it! "Well?" he demanded.

"I-I like it. Very much. Zommari-sama," the Número added hastily.

"Good!" said Zommari brightly, and then ate him.

_Another day, another meeting_, he thought, fastidiously cleaning the blood from the corners of his mouth with a scrap of the Número's clothing before heading to down the hall to the conference room.

_I should really stop being such a workaholic._

* * *

**That last line from Kimblee, in Fullmetal Alchemist! I love that line, and it seemed so appropriate in this case. Remember to read Zommari as the stoic guy we all know and ignore! He needs more attention, guys. **

**Thanks if you read this and bother to drop a review!**


	3. Me Time

**Two chapters in one night! I've written a bunch, and I'm just posting them as I type them up.**

Zommari sat in his room, feeling rather dejected. Shinigami were coming to Hueco Mundo? _Sigh….And just when I thought I'd get a moment to myself, _he thought dryly, _I must remain on constant alert…._

He looked around his room. Besides a small shelf with a few items on it, it was bare other than his bamboo mat and closet. _And the face on the wall, of course_, he thought, looking at it. It smiled encouragingly at him. He stared back at it blankly.

_Nobody smiles around here, _he realized. _Besides Szayelaporro, and he doesn't count. Because he's insane. And Gin-sama, because he's creepy. And Nnoitra's face isn't really a smile. I think it's just his face. But really, I can't remember the last time someone smiled genuinely at me. Or anyone, for that matter. Though perhaps amongst Grimmjow-sama's Fraccion, and perhaps Halibel-sama's as well, but what about the rest? We're people, are we not? Even people as cold-hearted and twisted as us need support sometimes. Nnoitra is living evidence of this. He appears undefeatable, invulnerable. But all he wants is to be defeated. To be bathed in blood and die on his feet. He despairs because he has nothing left. Where is his will to live? And no one acknowledges it, because they are all waiting for a rank in the Espada to open up, so they have a chance for themselves. And I, of course, am no exception. All I want is to be powerful, if I cannot have anything else. I -I don't even have Fraccion to talk to. At least Szayelaporro has his experiments, and Aaroniero has himself to keep him company. He's a little freaky, isn't he? But I __am_ _a little jealous, if I'm honest. Starrk has Lilynette, and the rest have their Fraccion, for whatever good it does them. Yammy has that dog. Only Ulquiorra has nothing, but he is the embodiment of nothingness…. does that mean it does not matter to him? _

_I am alone._

_I don't remember the last time someone truly wanted to speak with me. Nobody ever asks me what's wrong. No matter how obvious I am, they are never going to say anything. I am the option to be ignored. All I have is myself. And that is all I need, really. _

_We were all in this for ourselves from the beginning. I suppose it shall stay that way. Even Aizen-sama. Selfish, selfish Shinigami. When they aren't killing us, they subjugate us._

As he began to drift off on this new tangent, he sensed a new, Captain-sized, spiritual pressure move into range.

"Of course," he muttered. "I cannot even think about Shinigami without bringing them pounding at the palace gates."

He brushed off his robes, picked up Brujería, and headed off. Ah, time to do Aizen-sama's bidding. Such stinging rules he could do nothing about.

'The door clicked closed, casting the smiley face on the wall in a dusky darkness.

"Smiling at myself. I am worse than Aaroniero."

* * *

**Short chapter, and mostly Zommari being pensive, but it's important, I swear! It's character development that will alter the entire course of the story! Or something like that. I know he's a little out-of-character, but I'm honestly trying my hardest. But, at the same time, he doesn't have much to go off of, and I'm trying to add in an extra character twist.**

**Reviews? *grin grin***


	4. We All Have Bad Habits

The captain with the odd hair was a disappointment. To one such as Zommari, who had been _seeking_ to be proven wrong, he was a let-down on all counts. With his air of superiority, he had only confirmed Zommari's idea of Shinigami. They all truly seemed to believe they were special, didn't they? Like they were the world's saviors or something. Protecting the little, helpless humans from the big, bad Hollows. And, heck, don't worry! They're _cleansing_ those poor empty souls. Because no matter what those beasts have done, they deserve a second chance. It wasn't their fault, they were so consumed by the gaping hole in their hearts they couldn't help it. Those masked animals, yes. Mindless creatures, examples of humanity at its worst gone wrong even then. Crawling in the dirt, the scum of souls, consuming innocents. But they couldn't help it. It is instinct for them.

Break them. Break them all, you lofty beings of justice and light. Set them all free. Let them walk amongst the civilised again- you have tamed the beast. Dancing bears wearing bells, killed for an audience, transformed into respectable citizens. You truly transcend.

And yet, those who survived that time did not deserve another chance. Those who crawled and scrabbled and fought to reach the top are made all the more despicable because they have minds of their own. They can think for themselves, yet still choose to live in the dark corners, preying on those who wandered too near. The Espada, closer to the Shinigami than the humans they defended, are not worthy of existence. Unnatural. Hollows. Evil. Oh, so evil. Because our strength makes them seem pathetic by comparison, no longer the powerful arbitrators of the afterlife. _But, let's face it. In the end, we're all dead._

"Does it feel bitter?" Zommari asked. The captain was frozen in place, on his knees after having been forced to sever both Achilles' tendons, though he had made the mistake of trying to resist and instead cut open the entire back of his left leg in a wide, ragged slice. The Brujería mark stood out starkly on his pale forehead.

Zommari bent forward to better see the Shinigami's face. He searched the captain's eyes for the arrogance that had been present from the beginning. And- ah, yes, there it was. Even helpless and about to die, the Shinigami believed he was superior, like this was all just a fluke that would soon be corrected. "The pain must be extreme. I'm sorry. I know, it makes me a little queasy to to have sliced tendons, too. All those torn fibers…" He trailed off, looking for a reaction, before realizing the Captain couldn't speak even if he wanted to.

"I'm sorry." He released the control over the muscles associated with speech. "Here's your tongue back. No, I'm genuinely curious. Did you really expect to beat me? Maybe yesterday, maybe if I still believed in Aizen, you would have. I would have thrown everything in for my lord, even my life. But you're a little late, sorry. I changed my mind. I tend to do that. You know we all have our little bad habits." The dizzying feeling returned, encroaching on his mind from where it normally crept on the edges. A kaleidoscope of colors and warmth, and all he wanted to do was plunge into it and-

_No._ Really? _I'm about to kill someone here._

He closed his eyes and pushed away the swirling colors to find the cold space his mind usually occupied. Yes, there it was.

The captain had no additional expression when Zommari opened his eyes. Not that he could have shown any, really. Oh, well. "You can talk now, you know. The word 'conversation' implies there are two or more people having a discussion in which they exchange words. Fine. I guess not. No last words?" The captain opened his mouth.

"Byakuya Kuchiki, Captain of the 6th Division of the Gotei 13."

Zommari frowned. "The relevance of this?"

"My title."

Ah. He finally gave in? Or was he speaking out of pride? To make sure no one forgot who he was? Did he still think he could win, and was simply telling him this, so Zommari would be the one duped when he fell? We all have to learn sometime.

"I won't forget it," said Zommari solemnly. And then, with simply a thought, he made Byakuya Kuchiki cut off his own head. The sound of the captain's Zanpakuto falling to the ground rang out in the quiet. Oh, no, he would never forget it. If a captain falls, and no one's around but an Espada, does anyone hear it? Of course. The Gotei were probably wondering about the disappearance of his reiatsu right this moment. Time to leave.

Before he stood, Zommari inspected the decapitated head. Even in his last moment, Kuchiki refused to show fear. Or perhaps it was the face of a man who had suppressed his fear for so long he could longer express it. _I wonder... When was the last time he cried?_

"Perhaps we are not quite opposites. But we are not the same, and we will never be able to understand each other. All we can do is destroy each other." He stood up and sighed in relief as his knees unclenched. "And that is fine with me, as long as I am not on the receiving end of the destruction. It is simply how things are."

With that, he ended his Resurección and walked away, sword in hand, before anyone caught him talking to a corpse. Time to calm down and meditate.

* * *

**I skipped the actual battle because it wasn't all that different, up until the outcome. And, of course, more musings by Zommari. Because that's how he is. If you're thinking he's a little like Szayel, nah. His thought processes are much different. I think. Hopefully….**


	5. Death Jelly and Clowns

So the past few months had sucked. Not to be vague or anything, but there's just no other way to describe them.

"First, we are almost killed by that Kuchiki brat," he complained, "Then we are captured by a crazy clown as a 'specimen' who will probably kill us in the most painf-"

"I will what?" asked the crazy clown, almost pleasantly, approaching unnoticed by the specimen. He loomed over the over-sized sample jar and smiled creepily.

"We-er, nothing!" squeaked Aaroniero's higher voice. "So you can study us like that creep, Szayel," interrupted his lower voice.

Mayuri Kurotsuchi frowned as the two masks began arguing. Again.

"You weren't supposed to say that!"

"Why not? He asked!"

"Yeah, but you might make him angry, and we're in a bad enough situation already!"

"Shut up!"

"He'll dissect us!"

"I-I don't wanna be dissected!"

"Neither do I!"

Kurotsuchi scribbled down observations of the Espada into one of his notebooks. "Interesting," he muttered. Out loud. Whoops.

The masks stopped talking immediately. "We- weren't talking about anything, Kurotsuchi-sama! Don't hurt me!"

The captain rolled his eyes in opposite directions. Not because he was exasperated- though he was- it was just so funny to see the Novena cower in fear every time he did that. It was really amusing, and it actually got funnier every time. Heh, and the Espada couldn't do anything about it.

Aaroniero's masks floated in an orange substance contained in what appeared to be a massive jelly jar. The liquid was the result of Kurotsuchi's attempts to re-create what he salvaged from the original red liquid. And the jar was just... Honestly, he had no idea where he had gotten that. It definitely wasn't standard issue.

"So," Kurotsuchi began, "How do you eat? With the glass, you can't be able to eat directly. So, that must be one of the functions of your artificial body. What is the function of this liquid? How does it keep you alive? Why do you need it anyways?" He fired off the questions rapidly, adding in statements in between at times to answer some of his own questions.

Aaroniero was surprised. And flattered. Even though he was the Novena, he'd always been overlooked and made fun of, and was pleased to find that somebody took an interest in his existence. Even if that someone was a crazy-clown-killer-man. Okay, that wasn't a very comforting thought. Before he knew it, he was answering the questions with almost the same speed with which they were asked, until it came to "How did you end up as masks in a jar?"

Halfway through a sentence, he screeched to a stop and refused to speak anymore. He tricked me!

When Kurotsuchi realized he wasn't going to get any more answers, he wrote down a few more questions (such as- Are you one or two people? and What gender are you, really?) before he turned and swept off.

"We shall begin our analysis tomorrow," he called without turning around. " Be prepared."

Aaroniero shivered. Or, he would've. If, you know, he had a body. This was quite possibly the worst situation he had ever been in.

* * *

**Aha, what is Kurotsuchi up to now? You'll never know... unless you keep reading. And, to clarify, this is after the Winter War. Aizen lost, and it pretty much followed canon. Also, it didn't concern any of my characters, so I didn't include it. It would've been really badly written, anyways, and just wouldn't have fit into the story. So, yeah.**


	6. Szayel's Reputation of Greatness

Okay, body count. A bit of a morbid of way to start the day, but he was bored. Never underestimate the creative power of an Espada bored out of its mind.

Starrk/Lilynette- R.I.P.

Barragan- R.

Halibel- M.I.A.

Ulquiorra- Dust

Nnoitra- Down Probably

Grimmjow- M.I.A. (Yeah, whatever)

Szayelaporro- Down

Aaroniero- Dead and Dissected

Yammy- Dead

Zommari looked over his list, feeling pretty satisfied. Yes, it seemed to cover all there was to say. Perfect. After stuffing it into a pocket somewhere in his uniform, he took a glance around his hiding place. He had been beneath the ruins of Szayelaporro's palace for months, waiting for news that the war was over and Aizen had fallen. Or the Shinigami. He didn't care, really. Except they were both Shinigami, and so what is the difference in the end? Why, their uniforms, of course. The villain always must wear a white suit, it is requisite. And the Shinigami were the good guys, as always. Clearly.

And, why was he hiding when there was surely no one around? It was bad enough he had been injured by the …..Kuchiki, but the Shinigami patrols must have been removed when the war ended. _Well, there's sure to be nobody now, so I can leave this….. hole._

Cautiously, he shifted the slab over his head and climbed out, using his Pesquisa to take in his surroundings. As he did so, a presence registered on the edge of senses, and a Shinigami appeared no more than ten feet in front of him.

"You! Are you an Arrancar?" he demanded. _Of all the stupid questions…_ "Surrender immediately, and you shall become a prisoner of the Seireitei! Resist, and you _will _be destroyed!" He struck a dramatic pose, zanpakuto drawn.

Zommari stared. Well, he tried not to, but he just couldn't help it. A breeze drifted through the silence. The Shinigami's ridiculous hair blew in front of his face, and he inhaled a strand or five. Then he spit the strands out, without moving the rest of himself at all.

"Who...are you?" Zommari finally inquired, with an air of politeness. Only he wasn't being polite. Because he was the Septima Espada, and he didn't have to be honest with a _Shinigami._ Really? In fact, he was going to lie just to spite him. And he really needed an underling or something, so he could share his great wit and wisdom with somebody. Shutting it all in- it just drives an Espada crazy, y'know?

"You mean….. You have not _heard _of me?" said the Shinigami rather haughtily, arching an eyebrow.

"Uh… no," replied Zommari rather bluntly. Forget the lying-to-spite-him thing. This guy needs a talking-to. Why, in all of _Hueco Mundo_, should he have heard of a _Shinigami, _of all people? Confused, he put this question to the man posing in front of him.

"Well… because…" The stupid Soul Reaper tried to think of a reason. "Because I have a reputation of GREATNESS!" He assumed another pose, like he was a fashion model or something. Zommari could've sworn he was sparkling.

"Um, that's cool," he muttered vaguely, sliding Brujería out of the sheath.

"Aha! So you choose to resist ME, Ferdinand Antony Castillos, of all people?" He flipped his wavy black hair as he spoke his lengthy name. "Well, then. Prepare to meet you END by my-" Ferdinand Antony Castillos cut his speech short at the sensation of steel at his throat.

"This is why I just _hate _fighting Shinigami," said Zommari from behind him. "They're always talking about something. Sometimes, you just need to enjoy the silence."

"I-" Castillos began, his hand with the zanpakuto edging towards the Espada. The blade cut a little deeper into his throat.

"Don't bother."

Wait, what was he doing? As a Hollow, Zommari had never spared a victim. This record had gone unbroken during his time as an Espada as well. So why was he not slicing the head of this Shinigami without remorse, as he had done with Kuchiki? _Is it pity? _he thought. _Do I….feel sorry for this pathetic person? A change of heart without me even realizing in those dark weeks confined to a dank gap in the wreckage of this palace? This entire time I was wrong, and not all Shinigami are bad? _

Nope.

Just his Pesquisa telling him there was an oddly familiar reiatsu around this Shinigami, and it had him thoroughly confused.

Castillos' mouth gaped open, stretching until he gagged in the back of his throat and a loud pop was heard as the hinge dislocated. A pale hand emerged from his mouth and grabbed the flapping bone to use as leverage to force the rest of the body out, despite the muffled sounds of agony Castillos was making as his eyes widened in agony and panic.

As Zommari watched, Castillos slackened against the blade of Brujería, his skin sinking in and wrinkling, leaving a raw red stripe on his neck where it pressed against the metal as his skeleton caved and crumpled. After a final pull, a certain pink-haired Espada slid out of the corpse's mouth, landing in a pool of slime. Zommari dropped Castillos and strode back a few paces while sheathing his sword.

"Well, then," said Szayelaporro Granz, spreading his wings to flick away excess slime. Though, in Zommari's opinion, _any _slime was too much. And, those were wings, right? Those weird things coming out of his back with the red things on them? Curious.

The Octava continued speaking. That appeared to be what he was best at, after all. "That is possibly the longest I have ever stored myself in somebody. I'm quite certain I wasn't able to do that when I first began using Gabriel…. I should look into that. I really should, and so now where is my lab? And Lumina? Really, leaving me like that! Did I or did I not engineer them to be blindly loyal? Did they change their minds and carry me off to dump me in the middle of this wasteland while I slept?" He looked around for a moment, not noticing Zommari, and straightened his hair "Where am I, anyways? It looks familiar." His gaze lit on a few pieces of still-standing wall. And then he froze. And stared. And- "YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! IS THIS _MY PALACE?! _WHAT DID THEY DO TO MY BEAUTIFUL PALACE? WHOSE FAULT IS THIS?" - started to screech.

At the height of his rant of what he would do to whoever had so wrecked his beautiful place of residence- involving the slow dismantling of their appendages, then tearing apart their organs and feeding them to the victim- Szayel kicked a chunk of wall, sending it sailing through the air, his eyes tracking its progress into the distant-

It cracked against Zommari's face and broke into two pieces, which fell down and hit his toes. _Ouch! Was that intentional? Hmm, probably. I'm quite certain he was simply ignoring me this entire time. Otherwise he wouldn't have been screaming like he had an audience. _Zommari considered for a moment. _Actually, he probably would. But still….. If he comes any closer…._

"Oh, hello, Zommari-sama!" Szayel waved, still wearing his ranting face. "Where is Aizen-sama, may I ask? I need to talk to him about the disastrous state of my palace." He gestured. "As you may or may not have not noticed, it's a little… disorganized at the moment."

_Yes, I know, _thought Zommari. _I lived under it. _But he didn't mention that as Szayel rambled on and on and on. He groaned inwardly. He should've killed the Octava while he was still in Castillos.

* * *

**And now Szayel is here! Poor Zommari- your peaceful days are gone. Hah, I love Castillos! I have no clue how he turned out so weird, I swear. Blame his mother! **

**Oh yes, and a HUGE thank you to Aceidia! Though she didn't help me, strictly speaking, the way she writes Szayel is beautiful and amazing, and it helped me develop Szayel for this story! THANK YOU ACEIDIA, YOU ARE AWESOME, AND HERE IS CONNOR BACK. I FOOLED YOU- I DIDN'T REALLY EAT HIM, AND ALSO THANK YOU! Is that huge enough? No, no it isn't. But it shall have to do.**


	7. Mood Swing

Kurotsuchi was in a bad mood. A really bad mood, which meant he was basically storming around his lab, giving random orders to his daughter, and then throwing things at her if she acted too slowly. He knocked over the table of surgical equipment, and then made her pick them all up and clean them again, while he stabbed angrily at a sample of...something...with a scalpel. Then he whirled around and flung the scalpel at the opposite wall, rather suddenly.

Aaroniero almost screamed as it whistled an inch away from his jar and embedded itself so deep in the wall that the handle didn't even quiver. Or, at least, he tried to wince. It's hard not having much of a face.

Nemu finally ventured a question, keeping her head down as she cleaned the blades. "Captain, what is the problem?"

Finding nothing within reach to throw, Kurotsuchi settled for screaming in her direction. "Problem? What's the PROBLEM?! ONLY that General Yamamoto and all the captains seem to have agreed on NO PRISONERS without informing me. And now my _specimen_ is being qualified as a prisoner because they claim it was _taken without notification _during the invasion! It was an INVASION! How was I supposed to get AUTHORIZATION?!"

The "specimen" winced when the outraged clown decided to heave over a bookcase, get his toes stuck under it, and then kick it across the room.

"It's MY specimen! They don't get to tell me what to do with it! They CAN'T take it away!" he shrieked.

His lieutenant straightened up, finished cleaning the greater part of the wreckage. "Are you… planning to do something, sir?" she asked in a monotone. So it was really more like she just said it.

The captain stared at the ceiling with a blank look in his eyes, though he continued to smile creepily. "I could… no, no, that could never work….or maybe….but then they might...nah, I can't do that...Actually…. no, that won't do either…."

He turned slowly, with his face still turned upwards, then directed his gaze to the remains of the Novena. Without moving his head. Creepy. Then, to Aaroniero's horror, he began staring into the jar from a grand distance of three inches away. _I wish his teeth weren't so yellow. Actually, no, I just wish he weren't staring at me. And that I wasn't here. How did I get into this mess, and why couldn't I have been taken captive by someone at least moderately attractive? Then I would I have an excuse, of a sort. Maybe. _

Kurotsuchi's fingernails clicked against the glass as he lifted up the jar, resisting the temptation to shake it. That might actually kill his delicate specimen. " Why, if I have no other option…. I suppose I simply shall have to obey the Captains and Council and get rid of my….'prisoner'." His grinned stretched farther than his face should've allowed, and he began cackling evilly.

"They won't find Arrancar remains, should they _even _come to look. Nemu, prepare the dissection room!"

"Sir, this is the dissection room." She gestured at the wreckage.

"Well, prepare another one! And clean up the reiatsu lab! Move it!"

"Yes, sir."

Kurotsuchi stomped out of the room to go eat chocolate cake while he waited, leaving Aaroniero to nervously teeter on the edge of the table.

* * *

**Super short chapter- sorry. But they will get longer, just wait a bit!**

**And now…. Aaroniero dies! Haha, no. Maybe. You'll never find out. But, I'll give you a hint. It's a good one. Go on, guess. Guess the hint! Oh, you're no fun. Here it is-**

**Something happens to Aaroniero.**

**It's spectacular, is it not? It simply forces you into reading, in order to find out what happens to poor Aaroniero. **

**Pfft….**


	8. Intelligent Conversation

"Just calm down, and I'll explain, Granz-san." Zommari held his hands out, palms up, as he faced an army of…. Zommari. Thousands of himselves. That isn't even a word.

"EXPLAIN?! THERE'S NOTHING TO EXPLAIN!" screamed the Octava. "MY PALACE IS DESTROYED, AND YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE NEAR IT! WHAT DOES THAT TELL ME?"

There was a brief pause.

"I'LL TELL YOU WHAT IT TELLS ME!"

"Yes, that would be nice," Zommari murmured.

Szayel frowned. "What? What was that?"

"Nothing. Tell me what it tells you."

"What what tells me?"

"Whatever you were talking about"

"You mean you weren't listening? YOU DESTROY MY PALACE AND THEN THINK YOU CAN SIMPLY IGNORE ME?! SORRY, THAT ISN'T THE WAY IT WORKS."

"Ah, so that's what it told you."

"WHATEVER! I'VE HAD ENOUGH! I hope you're ready to defend your position as la Septima, because this is really gonna hurt!" This idiot. Maybe he did or did not destroy the building. But, either way, he could at least say something! Even make something up, though I'd be able to tell. Anything but stand there with that stupid blank expression and that stupid silence he expects to fill! And heck, I'll fill it! With his own screams! I want to see that facade crumble! I want him to show fear, open his mouth and beg! And, oh, he'll beg! Maybe, maybe not, but MAYBE! Ah, the possibility is even more beautiful than the reality, I think. Just the idea that he might just lose it, a second, just for a second, that idea, it makes me want to cry! Maybe, maybe he'll cry. I'd like that. I'd like to see him cry. I want to make him cry! This attack shall do nothing, but the idea! The possibility! Does he underestimate me?

The clones swept towards Zommari as a massive, supersonic wave and got closer and closer and they were about to collide in a magnificent red spray of blood if he was lucky and they crashed into him and-

Passed through the Gemela Sonido after-image, roared in confusion, then kept running.

Szayel's eyebrows twitched forward even deeper. Oh, right. Forgot about his magic tricks.

Zommari nearly lost his feigned composure as he narrowly escaped the attack, appearing behind the clones, out of the reaching distance of Szayel's wing-tentacle thingies.

"Look, I wasn't the one who destroyed your palace, Octava," he said calmly, resisting the urge to call Szayel something a little more insulting.

Szayel glared at him. "Well, if that is so, and pardon me if I don't believe you, who did? And you'd better have some concrete proof."

"It… was that Shinigami captain. The one with the makeup. I saw him near the remains of the Novena, and the two dead Shinigami."

The pink-haired Espada narrowed his eyes. "For all I know, you could be making that all up. After all, how could I verify it? And I could not help but notice your hesitation in making that statement." He giggled a little bit at the last sentence. Oh, I cannot wait to see him try to dig himself out of this one. That….That look! He's practically dumbfounded! I'm almost satisfied. But that's not enough. I want to push him even further! We'll see what has become of our great Zommari, the calm one, when all this is through.

His comment confused Zommari greatly. Didn't he remember fighting the captain? Even without proof from Zommari, the memory alone should be enough to convince him it was a Shinigami, if not the captain. Surely he couldn't have forgotten? " Granz-san, what is the last thing you remember?"

Perhaps not the best question he could have asked. "Oh, gee, how about something like the exciting experience of this conversation? Or, if you want to go back further, a certain Espada waking me up from the best sleep I've had in months. Before that? Well, if you really want to know- and, Zommari, never thought you'd never ask- I was-"

Zommari cut him off before he could continue with whatever he was smirking about. "You know very well that was not what I asking about," he said shortly. "Now, what is the last thing you remember before you ended up hiding inside that pathetic Shinigami?"

The other Espada's orange stare grew less intense for a moment, then filled with even more anger and indignation. "I don't see how that relates to the current situation, Zommari-sama," he said frostily. "Besides," he gestured. "Would you like to show me those Shinigami bodies you spoke of? Would that not help to prove your point? Unless, of course, you made the entire thing up and don't actually possess the corpses. Cuz that would really help me believe you."

Zommari sighed inwardly. Why did he have to be so infuriating? "Regrettably, I cannot. I realize this is not helping my case, but the Shinigami captain took the corpses with him when he left" Wait, why was he justifying himself to a lower rank? He didn't have to explain himself to a weaker Espada. He was Septima for a reason, just like Szayel was Octava for a reason, and who in Hueco Mundo did Szayel think he was, demanding an answer like that? The nerve! And, yet, much as I would love to obliterate him here and now, that would just be…..downright hypocritical. Unacceptable. I may not like him, but I cannot follow suit of the Shinigami and simply assert self-importance because I believe I am superior. Though I am. Of course.

He took a deep breath through gritted teeth. "Granz- san. Aizen is dead." Not Aizen-sama. Aizen-sama was gone before he died. Heck, who knew if he ever even existed?

Aizen. That was the name of the shinigami they had served so faithfully. But in the end, he had turned out just as any other- selfish, arrogant, and not worthy of Zommari's respect. He did not deserve the veneration of those he thought of simply as disposable. As toys that could be replaced if broken. Expendables.

The Octava's look changed to one of surprise, then skepticism. "What? You don't honestly expect me to believe that, do you? Oh my… you do...Hah. That's a pretty feeble lie," he added. "Even for you. And if it were true, what benefit would it give you to tell me so? It only means there will be no consequences should I choose to…..open a new rank, as it were."

Much as he hated to admit it, Zommari needed the Octava alive. In Hueco Mundo, it was more sensible to travel in groups, especially with Shinigami trolling about in the white sands. Okay, it sounds more than a little weird when put like that….But, regardless of power level, it was unwise to head out alone, without even a were, after all, always idiots who would attack even a Vasto Lorde. And one can never be safer than when with someone who runs slower than you. Especially if one is not particularly concerned with the safety of said slower person. Since the end of the Winter War, the Shinigami had been methodically combing Las Noches for any signs of Arrancar they could destroy, so really nowhere near the palace was safe for any kind of Hollow. Who, of course, happened to be the sole inhabitants of hueco Mundo.

In short, it was sadly beneficial to Zommari's own health to leave Szayelaporro alive for the time being. Hopefully the "time being" would prove to be of short duration.

"Listen, Granz-san," he began, again. "I did not destroy your palace. I had nothing to do with it. In fact, at the time, I was killing somebody. I can give you all the details, but first….." He thought for a moment. "Actually, some of this story isn't suitable for children 14 and under. Can I see your ID?"

"GET ON WITH IT!" Szayel screamed. "YOU WANNA SAY SOMETHING, THEN SAY IT! I'M RUNNING OUT OF PATIENCE HERE!" If Zommari had had hair, it would have blown straight back from the force of the Octava's shriek. You… had patience?

"Um, yes. You may wish to sit down, in that case. It's a very long story."

Szayel raised his eyebrows, but leaned against a fragment of still-standing wall and Zommari set out to detail what he had missed.

"So, basically, Aaroniero killed this kid. And so the kid's brother came over and was all 'I'm better than you'. And, well, y'know, I couldn't stand for that , so I fought him, like..."

* * *

**Hah! The chapter is finally here! And Zommari sasses Szayel in the end. I love that. Anyways, this took me forever to type up...cuz I'm lazy and distracted. There's really no other reason. Sorry!**

**But, review?**


	9. Genius

"Hey!" yelled Renji. "Unohana wants to see ya tomorrow, so you'd better not hurt yourself in the meantime, or I'll be in trouble!"

His words were directed at a certain dark-haired Soul Reaper who was trying to escape the hospital through a third-story window, without notice.

"Shh!" Rukia jumped down and landed feet-first square on his face, flattening Renji to the ground. "That's exactly why I'm getting out of here!" Renji twitched, trying not to cry from the pain of his crushed nose. "Oh, sorry."

He say up and rubbed his head, then joined her walking furtively around the back of the building.

"Anyways, I've been healed for ages. I can't believe they kept me in there for all those months. If Momo could handle the war, I could handle it twice as well!" She made sweeping motions with her hands as she talked rapidly, not really waiting for a response.

"And so, how have things been with y-" Her sentence cut off at the sudden appearance of Captain Ukitake heading towards the hospital's entrance.

"Rukia," he began, obviously surprised. "I thought you were getting out tomorrow?" His sentence was left hanging at the end- What are you doing out today?

"Captain!" Rukia bowed quickly. "Unohana-sama let me out early," she lied. "What brings you here?"

"I… had a meeting." Ukitake continued to look at her oddly, then smiled in his regular manner. "Well, you must be pleased to be outta this place-" he jerked a thumb at the hospital- "So, I won't keep you guys any longer. See ya!" He lifted his hand in a brief wave, then disappeared into the building.

Renji frowned at the closing door. "Well, that was weird," he said, turning on his heel and walking quickly away from the hospital.

"Hey, wait!"Rukia jogged a few steps after him and punched him in the shoulder. "Whaddya mean, weird? That's my captain, you know!"

"Well, you know, he was all...silent and things. Creepy, like."

"Just because everyone else doesn't talk as much as you doesn't mean they're creepy, you know. It's possible that you're just annoying."

"I," Renji pointed at himself, "am not annoying. I'm just the only one who faces the facts."

"Ooh, the facts no one else bothers with. How noble of you." Something was seriously wrong. What...is it…? Why can't I figure it out? Her eyebrow twitched forward in a scowl.

"I didn't...annoy you that much, did I? With the captain comment?" Renji looked at her, and she quickly rearranged her features.

"It wasn't that annoying, surprisingly." She responded, still trying to pinpoint what was different. _I'm fine. I am, right? Maybe I should've stayed in the hospital for the final- No, no it's okay, I'm doing well. Unohana said so herself last week. A lot can change in a week…..But I would have noticed. So it can't be me that has changed. Is it Renji? Rukia glanced up at the red-head striding alongside her. No, it's certainly not him._

"So, how come you're not on patrol?" she asked him. "Are you skipping work?" Every week the companies switched out patrolling Hueco Mundo searching the human world for stray Arrancars. They couldn't stop until they had completely eradicated the threat.

"I'm not on duty today," he replied shortly.

"Okay, then." And then, "Do you know where your captain is? I want to thank him."

Renji looked away, but Rukia was too busy talking to notice. "No, I...don't know where he is. What do you want to thank him for?"

"Unohana said he saved my life. Hah. Imagine Byakuya doing something so...so selfless." _But why? How would he save you? You were dead. And the dead don't come back when they are killed. Surely you know that._ She pushed the little whispering voice to the back of her head without a second thought. It would go away in a little, as it always had. "I can't wait to see his face when I thank him. He'll just say 'I was only acting in the best interests of the Sereitei. It would be detrimental to lose a trained Shinigami, especially now.' Or something like that. But I'm not surprised. Want to help me look for him?" She looked at him expectantly.

"Uh, I guess. I got nothing else to do."

"Okay, good, because I was going to make you come with me anyways." She turned and started walking briskly down the street.

"Wait, Rukia!" The red-head dashed after her. "Captain Byakuya has been missing since you returned from Hueco Mundo. Nobody's telling me anything, so…" He trailed off.

"He must be in the hospital," Rukia finished, spinning around again. "Hah! He cannot escape me!"

"Pfft. What are you gonna do, throw flowers at him?"

"Perhaps."

"I don't think that'll work, sorry. He's pretty much the master of flower power himself. Senbonzakura and all."

She stopped for a moment to consider, tapping her chin. "Ah, yes. Hmm...maybe I'll get him a pink unicorn plushie? From the human world? I could get Ichigo to purchase it, and embarrass him and Byakuya at the same time!" She pounded her palm with her fist. "All right, plan is perfect! Now to actually find him…"

Before Rukia even touched the doors, the hospital entrance swung open and Ukitake and Unohana strode out. Rukia quickly stuck her hand behind her back from where it had been outstretched to pull open the handle.

"Ukitake-taichou, Unohana-sama." She bowed. "I was just...on my way back to my room."

Renji straightened after being smacked with one of the heavy doors. "Ouch."

Unohana regarded Rukia carefully, then turned to Ukitake, obviously asking him a question of sorts. He shook his head, and she dipped hers in a brief nod before turning back to Rukia.

"Rukia, I am not pleased that you left your room. If I said you were to stay, then I obviously did not think you were fully recovered. Please pay attention to that next time, though I sincerely hope you will not be coming back to the hospital any time soon after this."

Rukia was bewildered. I thought she'd at least pull that creepy smile threat thing. She seems more distracted than anything.

_Hey, noticing a pattern? Curious, isn't it? How today you're so paranoid? Something's up, isn't it? _

"Um, yes, Unohana-san. My apologies. I'll just…. go back to my room now." She made to go upstairs.

"Oh, Rukia?" Unohana called, though she didn't actually raise her voice.

Sighing inaudibly, Rukia turned back. _Whaddya think she- Shut up._ "Yes, Unohana-san?"

"Don't sigh like that. Anyways, Ukitake-san and I are heading to a meeting with Captain Kurotsuchi. After that, I need to talk to you. Please do not leave before that, and I hope I do not need to stress the importance of that." With a smile, she swept out, Ukitake keeping up with her.

"That was… scary…" Rukia muttered to Renji. He nodded mutely. "Anyways, let's go."

"You're still gonna look for Byakuya?"

"What better time? She just said she's not going to be here for a while, so you just have to warn me when she comes back."

"Uh, and how am I supposed to do that?"

She rolled her eyes. "Stand here." She pointed at a spot in the hallway. "When she comes, just use Shunpo to come warn me."

He looked at her with a dead expression. "You say that like it's simple or something."

"It is simple. Do you think you can't handle it?"

"It's Unohana! You try and handle it!"

"Sounds like you're afraid….."

"Fffft….Fine!" He crossed his arms and glared at her. "But if she catches me, I told you so."

"Told me what?" she asked innocently.

"Just...go….."

There was a knock on the door of the main lab entry. "Nemu, go answer that!" Kurotsuchi yelled from one of the labs branching off the central area, as he added the finishing touches to his glorious project. Yes, he was a genius, wasn't he? That was a rhetorical question- of course he was a genius. Anyways.

He locked the lab door and exchanged his white coat for his captain's haori in the corridor, before striding into the main room, which actually didn't contain anything of use except a few chairs and some frivolous items there to make it look like a well-used lab. Everything of importance was either in the basement various labd throughout the building. Because he was crafty like that. Oh, was he crafty. Nobody really had to know what he was doing at all times.

"What do you want?" he snapped as he marched in. "I was in the middle of an important-" He stopped. Standing in the center of the room, lookin rather bored, was Captain Unohana. Captain Ukitake slouched in a chair nearby.

Groaning inwardly at the woman who had interrupted his wor, Kurotsuchi dropped into a chair and gestured to her is a way that could possibly be interpreted as maybe somwhat apologetic. If you were creative. Which Mayuri was quite certain Unohana wasn't. Creative, that was. Honestly, always enforcing the rules, never willing to look at something another way. Also, not allowing anything she deemed unethical, regardless of whether it was a breakthrough in modern science or not. That last bit referred to his experiments, by the way. They were all breakthroughs in modern science. Except maybe the small ones. Actually, no. Those were just small breakthroughs. But still critical! Probably.

_Really, now. What a typical woman. Never looking at the bigger picture. It's always, don't do this and don't hurt that. I probably need a special permit to make someone sneeze around here. Has she never heard of sacrificing the lives of a few for the good of many? Even she must realize you can't save everyone. Unethical? Ethics mean nothing here. This is knowledge for the sake of improvement. Everything can be made better. Why stick to the tried and true when you can break new ground? And, for that, sacrifices must be made. _

"What can I help you with?" he inquired, not directing apologies at anyone, or ask anyone to take a seat. _Oh, how disrespectful! But I'm sure she'll never catch on. I'm very subtle, after all. _

"There were reports of a reiatsu disturbance around here at around 1:00 in the morning," Unohana began. "I assume there is an explanation for this?"

_Of course there's an explanation for all this,_ he thought venomously._ Only the pinnacle of biological engineering. Only the greatest innovation of all time to be made in the study of all things reiatsu based! Only the most delicate, in-depth operation that anyone, much less you and Sick-boy there could have walked in on!_

Outwardly, his smile widened. "Of course there is an explanation," he replied smoothly.

_I just have to think of one._

"I was testing the new reiatsu meters I installed in the chemical storeroom, so I simulated a series of fluctuating reiatsu pressures to confirm they were functional. However, the equipment I was using malfunctioned after the initial test and created a greater disturbance than intended. Needless to say, I shut it off immediately for repair." All lies, of course, but what would she know about the workings of his lab?

"I see." She nodded briefly. "And why didn't you report this immediately?"

"I...uh...didn't want to disturb anyone's sleep. Surely you've heard of the study released last year showing that all Shinigami under the age 1,000 need at least 9 hours of sleep? Beauty rest and all."

"Clearly you don't get any, then," mumbled Ukitake.

Kurotsuchi spun around to look Sick-Boy in the eye. "Yes, of course I don't. Brains before Beauty, Aurora."

Before Ukitake could retaliate, Unohana stepped in. "I didn't come here to listen to you two trade meaningless insults. Kurotsuchi, you may not want to tell me what you were doing, but I need an explanation. Your reiatsu disturbance impacted 25 of my patients and sent one into critical condition."

That's certainly an interesting development. I didn't expect the spiritual pressure to be so powerful. I should look into this, see if there's any side effect of my procedure causing this. If it's an additional variable, I'll have to figure out a way to control it.

"Captain Kurotsuchi!" Unohana's strident voice snapped him away from his musings. "What happened?"

He heaved another mental sigh. Really, he hadn't been doing anything wrong. Just another experiment, to be honest. Not that they would understand...But there was no harm in showing them. he supposed. He didn't have to give them all the details, after all. They would leave, he wouldn't have to deal with them...it was a win-win. There was nothing wrong with that.

"If you insist on asking," he finally said, rather shortly, "Then follow me."

He turned through an open doorway, leading them deep into the winding labyrinth of his laboratory.

Maybe they would be able to grasp a small portion of his genius now.


	10. Why Did the Pumpkin Cross the Road?

_The first thing he sees when he opens his eyes is pure white. Like ice, it shines and reflects, bouncing off the boundaries enclosing him over and over until it hits his retinas at a hundred times its original intensity. A white so pure it would have been visible even without light, which- as he accesses the knowledge available to him- is impossible, as all colors are a product of light._

_Essentially, the entire world is an illusion, in that case. If it is simply predicated on the light that people perceive._

_He feels very proud of himself for having figured this all out in the first few moments of his existence._

_Then he tries to lift his head and see if there was anything keeping him company besides the whiteness, and finds he cannot move at all. There is a sensation occupying most of his nerves, rebounding within his synapses, that he can't quite recognize. A buzzing feeling or, now that he focuses on is, more intense. Like...like something cold and sharp is being thrust into every inch of his body at once. He remembers cold very well, but has no time to ponder why... Hmm, now that is an interesting feeling. Familiar as well. Very familiar. If he could just put a name to it..._

_Pain. That is it. How odd that he recognizes something he has never experienced._

_And now that he knows what it is called, it becomes ever more acute, pulsing and increasing on the edges of his senses, like someone is tearing him open from the inside and it hurt it hurt it hurt! -why wouldn't it stop? It is burning him to dust, but that would be a relief because dust doesn't feel anything and he can't he can't! -take any more of this he doesn't want to feel anymore nothing! -nothing more no..._

_And then, after an uncertain length of...time?...it is all gone. It flows away, leaving him with no lingering sensation but the cold._

* * *

Never before had Zommari experienced such regret. Then again, never before had he let somebody face him and live, and there was a first time for everything.

_There is also a last time for everything_, he thought grimly._ And I am quickly reaching that point._

For the past two days, the Octava Espada he had grudgingly spared has done absolutely nothing but whine, complain, and utter threats to Zommari's well-being at random intervals. It would get on the nerves of more patient people, of which the Septima was not one.

"Might I ask precisely what we are doing here?" asked the irritating Szayel, tapping his crossed forearms in an annoying pattern as he stood there in an infuriating manner and breathed too loudly.

"Agh!" Zommari finally screamed, throwing his hands up in the air. "Can you really not SHUT UP for any length of time? I ask you to be quiet for how long? Five minutes!" He waved five fingers in front of Szayel. "Count them! Five! And what do you do?! You ask me the stupidest question that comes to mind! I used to think you were some sort of genius, Granz!"

Szayel's eyes narrowed and, while he didn't draw his sword, he had to visibly restrain himself from hitting Zommari. "What. Was. That?" he hissed.

Zommari couldn't be bothered with answering, as he had turned away and was busy sensing for Shinigami.

The Octava stepped in front of him. "Please, repeat that," he said, almost pleasantly, though his countenance was colder than ever.

If Zommari had eyebrows, they would have been raised to the canopy of Las Noches. As it were, the lines tattooed where his eyebrows should have been creased oddly. "Repeat what?"

"Say that you think I'm stupid. Really. I want to see you say that to my face. Right now."

And so, with an absolute deadpan face, Zommari opened his mouth and let fall the words. "I do not merely think you are stupid, Granz. I also think you are arrogant, ill-informed, imprudent and impudent, and you have a death wish."

This made Szayel laugh. Low chuckles at first, but they steadily began growing into full-blown cackles emanated from his mouth erratically. After a minute or so, he wrapped his arms around himself and giggled to himself, looking downwards and kicking at the sand. "I...oh, hah...aha-haa...That's...I...haaa..." When he finally calmed down, he sighed and straightened a piece of his hair.

And then he slapped Zommari square in the jaw.

"Don't ever say that again." He slid his sword back and forth a few inches in and out of its scabbard, chewing hard on the side of his tongue. "Do you understand? If you even think about suggesting I am anything less than perfect I will cut your tongue out and make you sit as I destroy every single one of your organs. I will start with your spleen and end with your brain, and make sure you feel every little bit of pain in between." At some point, he bit through part of his tongue, and blood started running between his teeth.

Zommari had to admit, that had been surprising. While Szayel's blow hadn't been painful, it had actually knocked him back a step or two. And that was unacceptable. _It is unfortunate. He would have been very useful_. _But I can no longer deal with this stupidity, and if I try, then I will end up as Granz himself. Psychopathic, and very, very dead._

He watched impassively as the Octava ranted, then stepped forward and grabbed him around the throat, lifting him a few inches off the ground. "I heard you, Granz. You don't need to tell me twice, or even three times. And, do you know what? I can hardly bring myself to care. Isn't that funny? Tell me," He raised Szayel slightly higher. "How do you intend to destroy me, when you can't even save yourself? It really is funny, though. Because now? It is your tongue on the line. I suggest you think ahead next time you decide to threaten me."

It was unnerving, ever so slightly, how the Octava continued to smile at him, with that arrogant look in his eyes, and blood trickling over his jaw. He didn't even try to escape Zommari's crushing hold, instead smiling slowly and coldly. As the blood came closer to dripping off his face, he wiped it off, fixed his hair with the same hand, then twisted one of Zommari's fingers upwards with a violent jerk, causing Zommari to drop him in surprise. When Szayel's feet hit the ground, he yanked his sword out of his scabbard and, in the same motion, rammed it down his throat, speaking his release command along with a few choice curses.

And, now...Does he really have to get so worked up, so easily? Unbelievable. As Szayel transformed, his wing-like appendage darted towards Zommari, almost as fast as the Septima flashed behind him.

Zommari brought his sword down towards the Octava's spine, changed his mind, and redirected it the swing towards the odd wings that were once again snapping towards him. He kicked heavily at Szayel's back, sending the other Espada stumbling and flinging out an arm for balance.

By the time Szayel had whipped around, Zommari had appeared on his other side once more. "You _idiot_," he snapped. "Do you realize how many Shinigami are going to come running after that massive release of reiatsu from your Resurrección? Not to mention other Hollows!"

Szayel merely grinned at the prospect. "Excellent. And, while I'm not much of a confrontational spirit, I find myself quite looking forward to it. Because by then," He pointed a long purple fingernail at Zommari, "I will be long gone and- you? Well, I think you'll enjoy the company. After all, you are lonely a lot of the time, aren't you?" He tilted his head. "Oh, correction! All the time. You, my friend, lead a sad, meaningless existence. You should be glad it'll all be over soon." _That. Is. It_. Zommari seethed, preparing to enter his own Ressurección. _Who cares anyways? The Shinigami will come regardless._

Distracted as he was, he didn't realize until too late that Szayel's wing had already encased him.

_Dangit._

A small replica of Zommari smiled back at him from where it sat on Szayel's palm.  
"Look at it! Isn't it adorable?" The Octava chuckled. "Actually, no. I'm sure you don't mind me saying you are ugly as sin. Those spikes? Gaudy. The necklace of teeth? Passé. And such a distasteful expression all the time." He shuddered theatrically. "I cannot begin to think how you must feel with such an unpleasant face all the time. Even I can see no salvation for your appearance."

The real Zommari sighed. "Talk, talk, talk, Szayel. And you wonder why I look so displeased."

Szayel lifted a finger and tutted at him lightly. "Ah, but I do wonder. Anyways, you know the rules. I destroy any organs that I please, and you sit back and scream. We're clear? Good. But don't worry. I'll leave the important bits." He frowned sadly. "I couldn't _bear_ to have _murder_ on my conscience." As he spoke, he popped the head off the doll and began sifting through the brightly colored replicas of organs. "Ah, just like candy," he chuckled to himself.

_Aw, screw your game, Szayel._

"Suppress, Brujería," he muttered, allowing the unpleasant feeling of the transformation to wash over him. _Of all things…..Why am I a pumpkin?_ This was hardly the first time he had wondered this, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Still, the form had its uses…

"Of course," Szayel swore so violently that Zommari could practically see the word burn acidly in his mouth. "Well now you don't have an Achilles' tendon. I suppose I can't do that then. On to the spleen then. Oooh, no, the appendix! So even if you do live, you'll get sepsis or something. Unless your regeneration takes care of it before then….Dang. Well, it'll hurt plenty in the meantime. And, now, there is only one way to find out." He crushed the tiny corresponding replica with his fingernails.

The sharp pain exploded through Zommari's lower right abdomen, just as he spoke. "Amor!" he managed, his voice cracking and petering out towards the end of the word.

Szayel jerked his head up in surprise, just having time for his eyes to widen before the Brujería mark appeared on his arm.

_Missed. Ugh..._

The doll fell to the ground as Zommari commanded Szayel's arm.

_And, you cannot cut it off, as you have no sword. Not that you would, anyways,_ Zommari thought, right before the Octava appeared directly in front of him.

"Hard to move in that form?" he asked mockingly, drawing back his fist.

_He's….not going to punch me, is he? He said it himself- he's not a combat type. And he lacks the proper upper-body strength for a blow like that to have any effect. He knows it, too. How irregular_. The thoughts flashed through his mind as he stepped with Sonido, to appear behind Szayel once more. What a tired trick. The Amor command was once again shouted, and he soon had the pink-haired Espada wrapped within his own wing in a matter of seconds.

_Now, let's see what I can do….._


	11. Brotherly Love and Other Deadly Matters

_Oh, how long has he been laying here? Stretched out on this cold, cold surface, he feels something- a pressure building building against his eyes and what is that touching his face? Warm….The first warmth he feels. And it is...warm, warm, warm. It feels so nice._

_Liquid. There was liquid streaming….from his eyes?_

_Numb fingers fly to his face and since when- he can move! No, this is all wrong. Because if he can move, people will see him. No, no, why is he wiping his face still, nobody can know! Nobody, nobody, and why is he here? He lifts his hand from his face and looks at the liquid dripping from his fingernails. A disappointment- why does it have no color?_

_Tears. Ah, yes. He remembers tears now, and quite well. He remembers watching the girl, and the liquid that splashed on the ground when they brought her through the hole in the sky and it had been cold then too! And he had, of course, been standing in the dark, with that pain that always sat and sat deep in his chest. Dark and unnoticed, and how painful it had been! Such a contrast to the white that surrounds him, and now the cold is comforting- something that is so familiar. Hah, cold comfort. How ironic. But tears are a sign of weakness, and he doesn't want to be weak. He doesn't want to be anything. _

_What does he want?_

_What an excellent question. He formulates thoughts for the first time. The first time in a long time. _I want….

I want to serve. My powers I possess….I want to learn to use them. And I want to stand by the side of the one who brought me into being. I have been reborn. Reborn for a purpose.

_He stares at the whiteness high in the distance above him. _No, that is not it.

To _serve_ would be to exist below somebody else. To put _my _powers to the use of another's will. To abandon all I have for all they desire. And what do I have? Nothing, but all that they have given me, and I certainly owe them for that.

A favour for a favour, _he decides. _That is all I owe.

_And of what he wanted?_

_A smile creeps across his face, the first expression of his brief existence. He is making such emotional strides today. _

_He was quite sure of what he wanted. And, thanks to his master, he had the power to get it. _

_A slice of darkness opened in the white- _a door, _he realizes. He turns finally to face his master._

Rukia stuck her head into the one of the occupied rooms of the hospital, and was surprised to find Captain Hitsugaya sitting in the bed, reading a book while wrapped in bandages. He, by the way, was the one with the bandages. Not the book, because that would be silly. He looked up with a face of disinterest at her entry.

"Shor- Captain Hitsugaya!" she blurted, bowing quickly to cover up the almost-insult. "Have you, perhaps, seen my brother?"

He regarded her silently for a moment with lidded eyes. "I haven't seen him since he entered Hueco Mundo for backup. But then, I don't keep up with _every _Shinigami, you realize, " he responded finally, then turned back to his book. After a moment, he looked back and appeared almost surprised to see Rukia still standing in the doorway. "But please tell me if you _do _find him," he added.

She nodded and left. _Maybe Renji was right. The captains are acting quite odd today. Maybe it has to do with that meeting Ukitake-taichou and Unohana-san were talking about. I should ask them about that when they get back._

As she hurried down the hall to the critical wing, Toshiro's words came back to her. _Renji hasn't seen him since he left, and neither has Toshiro. Did he- No, no, of course he made it out. Otherwise I wouldn't be here. _She smiled faintly at the memory of Renji's incredulous expression when he told her Byakuya had saved her life.

_Still, something is nagging me…_

_Perhaps I should just wait for Unohana to get back- she may explain a few things._

Deciding this was a fairly reasonable course of action, she turned to tell Renji he could leave his post and-

She opened her eyes to find herself leaning against the wall, unable to inhale oxygen fast enough. Breathing deeply, she pushed away, blinking back spots from her vision , and keeping one hand braced against the wall as she attempted to walk down the hall. She could at least make it to her room, Renji would figure it out, just to her room, just a step and another and- She felt so strangely tired all of a sudden, and the floor really looked so- Blackness faded softly in and out briefly at the edges of her vision, and she was just drained. Another step, another step, and oh she could just-

"Rukia!" Renji appeared in front of her. "Unohana's back!" He frowned as he realized she was on the verge of collapse."Wh-what's wrong?" She straightened sharply, hauling herself upright, and waved him off.

"I'm fine. Just….." She stopped a moment to catch her breath. "Gotta get to my room." Renji looked with a panicked expression down the hall, then grabbed Rukia's arm and Shunpo-ed to her hospital room.

Unohana turned away from the window, smiling faintly. Her eyes widened fractionally when she saw Rukia's condition. "I..see." She turned to Renji. "Go get a nurse. I need to do a biopsy."

Renji blinked, dazed and concerned. "A…..a what?"

The captain didn't even waste a glance at him as she swept out of the room. "A biopsy, now go! This is important, if you hadn't noticed."

He shook himself out of his daze and dashed for the stairs, as Unohana returned, scrubbed and prepared for the operation.

"Okay, Rukia, we've done this before, but I don't expect you to remember. I'm going to try and make it as quick as I can, so just lie flat on your back. You haven't eaten anything for at least six hours, have you?" Rukia shook her head, as Unohana adjusted the monitor connected to the camera located above Rukia's head. When Renji rushed back in with a nurse, Unohana directed her to watch the monitor, then turned back to Rukia, injected her neck with anesthetic, and inserted the guide wire and introducer sheet.

"Renji, are you going to keep standing there?" she asked, checking the ultrasound printout and guiding the catheter through the lock on the introducer.

"Sorry," he muttered, leaving the room. He leaned against the wall next to the door, and slid down until he was sitting. _What's going on? And, really, what's a biopsy?_

"Okay, we're done," Unohana declared, handing the nurse the six jars containing the heart tissue samples from Rukia's right ventricle and shutting off the monitor. "Go stain these and tell me the rejection grading, please," she said to the nurse, removing the guide wire and bioptome. "I need to talk to Rukia." The nurse nodded and disappeared to the microscope lab.

Renji poked his head in cautiously. "A-are you done?"

"Yes, and please come in, Renji." Unohana threw her gloves into the trash. "I'm sorry for kicking you out but, as you could see, I was in a bit of a hurry." She checked Rukia's forehead for a temperature and sighed in relief.

"Once she starts using her heart pills again, she should be fine. This can't be anything more than a Grade 1B rejection, along with the fact that she hasn't had much activity recently."

Renji stared. "Wait, wait, wait, wait. Rejection? For what? Can you explain from the beginning?"

The captain looked noticeably and uncharacteristically nervous, fiddling with the end of her braid and avoiding Renji's and Rukia's eyes. Finally, she spoke again.

"When you were brought back from Hueco Mundo, Rukia, you were past critical condition. I'm quite certain that you only survived because of Captain Kurotsuchi's intervention. _Though I'm not sure why that man would do _anything _for anybody else,_" she muttered under her breath.

"Anyway, you had lost a ton of blood, and I don't think I need to say that you were on the verge of death. You were on the verge of death, by the way." A nervous addition. Unohana was seriously worried if she was babbling like this. "We performed a transfusion as soon as possible and checked the extent of your injuries. Your small intestine was lacerated, fortunately missing your stomach, and your left lung was punctured in two places. The wounds weren't clean and, due to the nature of the injury, the three wounds were ragged. We irrigated the wounds your entire chest and abdominal cavities and sutured everything. But," She took a huge breath and released it slowly, in that way that made you want to take another breath because you'd been exhaling for so long. "I'm assuming the Espada's blade was some sort of pronged weapon. The center blade hit your lung directly, but grazed your heart. At first, we only thought it was a shallow scratch, so we stitched it, but didn't pay too much attention to it, especially with the other things we had to take care of. " Another sigh. "The sutures dissolved in a week, and we thought that was that. And….you can tell it wasn't. The cut had almost pierced straight through the muscle in one point, and the stress from your heart's beating against the sutures made it widen from the inside. By the time the stitches were gone, you heart was literally starting to rip."

Rukia, needless to say, was horrified. "What? And that's not a big deal?"

"There was no way of repairing it without causing further damage. We had to perform a transplant, but there was a viable organ on-hand, fortunately. The operation was successful, and we have been monitoring you ever since. The medicine we gave you and told you to take very day was your heart medication to prevent rejection. I believe the reason for your symptoms today was because you didn't take the medicine for a few days. If you start taking them again immediately, on time, every day," She pushed forward a few jars of pills to Rukia, "The fever and dizziness will clear up. And now…."

Unohana looked past Renji at the door of the room, then over to the various medical machines near Rukia's bed, which were now powered off. This time her next breath was short. Just a shallow hitch that couldn't possibly have gained any oxygen. But her voice was as cool and placid as ever. "Rukia, I would suggest you no longer look for Byakuya. He has already saved your life twice in this entire situation. And he can no longer do so."

Rukia was frozen in place. _What. What does that mean? He can no longer do so? Make sense, lady. Speak straight. He can no longer save me. Okay. _She closed her eyes, blocking out the light flowing in from the window and its pathetic attempts to warm her. What was Unohana trying to say? Doctors never said anything bluntly. Oh, no, it's all "this will only hurt a little" and "he's in a better place". Her eyes opened lazily. _He's in a better place? Oh, yeah, they do say that a lot. Maybe….. _"Is he…. 'in a better place'?" she asked, smirking internally. _How could I ever say that seriously?_

Unohana looked at her for a long moment. "No," she said flatly. "He is not."

It was quiet after that. Very quiet. Renji was past horror at this point, and Rukia was…._And so. If by 'better place', they mean he is dead, does that mean he isn't? Because I doubt he is. So, where is his reiatsu? _She reached out her own reiatsu and felt around for her brother's spiritual pressure. And...there it was. Weak, most certainly. But it was there. What were they hiding from her, then? Byakuya was alive! Why wouldn't they tell her?

_I would suggest you no longer look for Byakuya._

_Why not? _Rukia lifted her gaze to meet the eyes of Captain Unohana. _What a cold person. Where's the emotion? Her bedside manner is terrible._

_I suggest you no longer look for Byakuya? Heck, yeah, right. What did you do to him? _"Unohana….san?" she asked.

Unohana had been drifting off a little, waiting for someone to finally speak, and jumped a little when Rukia began speaking. The hard edge of the girl's question surprised her. "Yes, Rukia?" she asked gently.

Rukia ignored her soft tone and plowed ahead in empty, formal tones. "Where is my brother?" Unohana opened her mouth, and Rukia cut her off when she saw the sadness in the captain's eyes. _I am tired of this charade. When is she going to cut the nice doctor act and tell me what the heck happened? _"Do not say anything other than the truth. Give it to me straight. I want one clean sentence. If I have to ask another question just to know what happened…." She trailed off.

The captain was not surprised at Rukia's frustration, and not at all surprised at the almost-threat, though it was certainly new coming from her mouth. It was the sarcastic little "better place" remark that really got to Unohana. Because there is no better place, and Rukia ought to know that. That is not to say Soul Society and the Sereitei were the greatest places to be- it simply meant that anywhere else was worse for a fallen Soul Reaper.

"You want to know where Byakuya is?" Unohana's voice had suddenly become cold enough to more than match Rukia's, and she stood up to look Rukia straight in the eye. "You really want to know?"

Rukia nodded, an irritated expression obvious on her face. Renji scooted a little further away from the two females. _Scary….._ he thought. Of course, he would never say that out loud.

"Very well." Unohana straightened her haori, and grabbed Rukia's wrist, pulling her up. "Get out of bed, and follow me."

The younger Kuchiki snatched her arm back, and crossed them both across her chest. "No. Whatever you want to say, say it here." _This is tiresome. Stop stalling, Unohana. Is it so hard to spit it out?_

Unohana's eyes actually flashed, but the rest of her face remained impassive. "Do you….Or do you not…..Want to know where Byakuya is?" A deliberately spaced out sentence, with frosty intervals. Suddenly, her voice returned it's normal calm warmth. "Rukia, I'm sorry. It's just….well. I don't think I can explain it in words. I have to show you. Please? Will you please come with me?" She smiled hesitantly.

_Huh? _Rukia was surprised by the sudden change in demeanor. _Maybe she was just worried or something. I suppose doctors are stressed a lot of the time…._She sighed. _Well, I'm not quite done being annoyed, but I _do _want to find out, so….. _"Very well. Let's go." She slid out of the hospital bed. "Oh yeah, sorry Renji. Do you wanna come, too?"

Renji jumped. "Geez, guys, you were scary for a moment there. But, sure, I'll come with ya."

The walk was short, only to the center plaza, where a large slab of stone stood. Unohana led Rukia straight up to it and pointed at a name carved into the stone.

The Memorial Stone.

It was dead silent as Rukia read and re-read the name. _Byakuya Kuchiki Byakuya Kuchiki Byakuya Kuchiki Byakuya…..You said you'd never leave me. _Clenching her fists in her robe, she spoke without turning to Unohana. "So. He's dead?" Her voice was calm, perfectly calm. Unohana inclined her head slightly. Rukia continued without a quiver. "Then why can I still feel his reiatsu?"

A sharp breath was taken from somewhere above her head, as if someone had sucked away a tiny sliver of sky. "We used his heart for your transplant. It was the only viable organ we had immediately available. Traces of his reiatsu are inside you."

_No, no that's wrong. Surely. _"You used….Byakuya's heart? That's...sick."

Unohana faced her directly. "Sick? You think it's sick that we saved your life? That Byakuya saved your life?"

"Yes! Yes, I do! That's twisted! You _killed_ him to save _me!_ Me!" She jabbed a finger at her chest. "Who in the worlds chooses _me _over _Byakuya?" _

"Would you rather we left you to die?" Unohana countered. "When there was something we could do about it?"

"Why not?!" Rukia screamed. _Rip it out of my chest!_

Renki cautiously spoke. "Rukia….Uh.. I wouldn't want you to be dead."

_Tear this life away from me because I did nothing to earn it! Nothing! All I have done is let others work for me._

She whirled to face Renji. "Would you rather Byakuya lived? Or me?"

He stepped backwards, widening the distance between them. "I...well….You're my best friend. So. I don't know!"

_From Byakuya adopting me as his sister, to losing my powers and relying on Ichigo, to getting taken back and almost executed!_

"Geez, that's nice. But, Renji, is doesn't mean anything in the end. Do you know why? Because now _you _are the captain of Sixth Division. And I guess that means you're gonna die too."

_And Ichigo and everyone came after me and they risked their lives for _me _and what have I done in return? Got Byakuya killed. Failed to protect Ichigo. And what happened to him? Is he still in Hueco Mundo, buried in the white sands? Then it would be my fault as well and nobody can truthfully tell me otherwise because I want it to be true! I want it to be my fault! That is the only thing I can do for anyone, take the blame._

"I'm not gonna die, dangit!"

"Rukia." Unohana's voice cut sharply towards her, and she flinched. "Byakuya is dead. His head was cut off by an Arrancar of formidable spiritual pressure in Hueco Mundo. We believe it was one of the Espadas themselves, though we haven't determined which one, or even if we have killed it. Byakuya was killed instantly. I did not kill him for the transplant." Her expression didn't change as she continued. "If Byakuya had been alive, there would have been no available organ. That is to say, I would have let you die. Even healing Kido would have had no effect at that point."

She shook her head. "He's still here. I can feel his reiatsu, and I don't mean the remaining traces from the transplant. I can feel him nearby."

"That," stated Unohana. "Is impossible."

"Says who?" A familiar voice asked, and Byakuya Kuchiki stepped out from the memorial stone. Rukia jumped back, stifling a scream of surprise and shock, and Renji had to restrained himself from drawing his sword as he recognized his captain.

"Byakuya….taichou," he said, bowing in a daze.

"Brother!" Rukia exclaimed, jumping forward, remembering in time that Byakuya hated hugs. Byakuya didn't react other than glancing down at her. But then, he never did react.

"I said," Unohana said calmly. "That Byakuya Kuchiki is dead." She slid her sword from its sheath from where she had been carrying it over her shoulder by the string and, without further comment, rammed it into Byakuya's throat.

Rukia cast a wild glance up at the captain, then turned and ran.

* * *

_The tall one was dead, the tall one was dead, the tall one was dead, and there was that much less whiteness in the world. He tilts his head back and stares at the beautiful blue sky, vibrant rivulets of red streaming down his hand._

_The tall one was dead._


End file.
